Having thus spoken, D’Artagnan cleared the ditch by the roadside and crossed the plain so as to wind around the village. He had observed between the house that Madame de Longueville inhabited and the convent of the Jesuits, an open space surrounded by a hedge. The moon had now risen and he could see well enough to retrace his road. He reached the hedge and hid himself behind it; in passing by the house where the scene which we have related took place, he remarked that the window was again lighted up and he was convinced that Aramis had not yet returned to his own apartment and that when he did it would not be alone. In truth, in a few minutes he heard steps approaching and low whispers. Close to the hedge the steps stopped. D’Artagnan knelt down near the thickest part of the hedge. Two men, to the astonishment of D’Artagnan, appeared shortly; soon, however, his surprise vanished, for he heard the murmurs of a soft, harmonious voice; one of these two men was a woman disguised as a cavalier. “Calm yourself, dear Rene,” said the soft voice, “the same thing will never happen again. I have discovered a sort of subterranean passage which runs beneath the street and we shall only have to raise one of the marble slabs before the door to open you an entrance and an outlet.” “Oh!” answered another voice, which D’Artagnan instantly recognized as that of Aramis. “I swear to you, princess, that if your reputation did not depend on precautions and if my life alone were jeopardized——” “Yes, yes! I know you are as brave and venturesome as any man in the world, but you do not belong to me alone; you belong to all our party. Be prudent! sensible!” “I always obey, madame, when I am commanded by so gentle a voice.” He kissed her hand tenderly. “Ah!” exclaimed the cavalier with a soft voice. “What’s the matter?” asked Aramis. “Do you not see that the wind has blown off my hat?” Aramis rushed after the fugitive hat. D’Artagnan took advantage of the circumstance to find a place in the hedge not so thick, where his glance could penetrate to the supposed cavalier. At that instant, the moon, inquisitive, perhaps, like D’Artagnan, came from behind a cloud and by her light D’Artagnan recognized the large blue eyes, the golden hair and the classic head of the Duchess de Longueville. Aramis returned, laughing, one hat on his head and the other in his hand; and he and his companion resumed their walk toward the convent. “Good!” said D’Artagnan, rising and brushing his knees; “now I have thee—thou art a Frondeur and the lover of Madame de Longueville.” Chapter X. Monsieur Porthos du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds.